Today
by Goddess Blue
Summary: HD slashy one-shot. The final battle comes, and Harry knows that today is different from every other day. Today, he is different.


Disclaimer: **Harry Potter**, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros. They are used here for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: Slash. Kisses. Character death.

Spoilers: None. Written Pre-OotP.

**Today**

"Potter," he says, and it is void of the malice it held when we were in Hogwarts together. He watches me as he used to, though today his face doesn't have that malicious, hateful expression. Today it is curiously blank. All the years I've known the great Draco Malfoy, I would have described him as fiercely passionate and emotional, but today he is simply empty, his wand raised and effortlessly held my way, his body striking a defensive pose that any wizard would posess during a duel.

Today he is not Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy," I return, my voice tired and haggard. I've come so far and fought so many to finally face the evil that is Tom Riddle, and only one man, one boy, stands between us. My closest friends are bringing the war to a long overdue close in other parts of the country, clearing out bands of death eaters and freeing the oppressed. Rescuing muggles in danger. Thinking of me and praying that I succeed in getting rid of the source of all this hatred and fear.

Today I am not Harry Potter.

The dark, haunting, ugly form steps between us to face me, and Draco drops his arm and straightens at his master's hissing command. "Leave him to me, young one. I would not owe the pleasure of his defeat to another. This, boy, has been a long while coming."

Shivers run down my back, as forceful as the first time I was faced with the haunting image of a dead man, but the hate doesn't run as hot as it used to. The rage isn't something I can pull up at will and take out on the evil lord through my magic.

He killed my parents.

But a part of them lives on in me, whether I've met them or not. The love they showed to others came back to me in circle, and while I long to have had them to grow up with, I accept that they are somewhere where they can be happy and safe.

He attempted, and sometimes succeeded in killing my friends.

Albus Dumbledore's death hit us all hard, and the grief of losing yet another father runs deep in my heart, but his last words are a comfort to me. He'd lived a good life, and regretted only one thing, that he'd had a part in bringing about the wrath of the Dark Lord.

He's killed so many. Hurt so many. Warped so many. My eyes shift behind him to Draco for a moment, and then I refocus. He's going to die, and then it will all be over and we'll be rebuilding life. What is done cannot be changed.

"You've lost, Voldemort."

His head raises a little and his eyebrowless forehead raises. "But we haven't even fought yet, Potter. You're very sure of yourself."

"Not so much. The outcome of this battle doesn't matter anymore, Voldemort. Your forces are nonexhistent. Your followers have scattered. Your inner circle is dead." And my eyes search out Draco's to note that not a twinge of sorrow crosses his face at the declaration of his father's death.

Voldemort hesitates, and then scowls and begins to concentrate. I allow him this time, to realize what he's lost before he loses completely. His eyes widen and I see a kind of animal fear as he senses that what I've told him is true, there is no longer anyone connected to him through the dark mark but Draco.

I smile slowly, allowing myself to feel a sort of perveted pleasure at his distress. "You'd have to start from scratch again, Voldemort. Tom Riddle. And even _you_ can't live forever."

Voldemort whirls on Draco, who's expression still hasn't changed from that blankness he's been showing since we started the evening. "You're enjoying this, you slimy little brat. I can _feel_ you enjoy this. I should never have let you live."

It's my turn to be confused, as I see a smile creep across Draco's face.

"Keep close your friends, your father said, and keep closer your enemies. Feh!"

I raise my wand while Voldemort's distracted, but he whirls again. _"Expelliarmus!"_ He whirls back around, barely paying me a glance.

Well, so much for being the famous Harry Potter. I lay in a heap nearly ten feet away from the arguing pair, wand only a crawl or two away.

"Of course I'm enjoying it, you've got nothing. No secret weapons, no supporters. I remember when I realized _I_ had nothing, do you? Do you remember that night, my Lord?"

Draco raised his wand arm again, aiming it at a backtracking Dark Lord. Smiling still.

"You laughed."

Voldemort's fingers wrapped tightly around his own wand, nearly white with tension.

"I'm going to laugh, too."

My fingers wrapped around my wand, and I took aim. This time, Voldemort was too distracted to notice. Voldemort snarled and threw that hissing green light at Draco with a rushed, _"Avada Kedavra!"_ Draco's own dark green shot back and they wrapped around eachother, bending and throwing off to the left and right, missing both wizards.

My spell hit its target.

Tom Riddle was no more.

Draco Malfoy lay in a heap on the marble floor of the foyer to Malfoy Manor, breathing raggedly. His face lifted and his eyes met mine, and he tossed his wand to the side. I crossed to him slowly, and dropped to my knees beside him.

"I thought you were going to laugh."

He drew in a struggling breath and shrugged half heartedly, "I guess it wasn't very funny after all."

"I feel a little dishonorable, hitting him in the back like that."

"You'll get over it."

"Oh, I already have. It's the principle, you know."

"Not really."

I hmmed in the back of my throat and sat back on my haunches, letting my wand drop to the floor beside his. His fingers grasped at it as it fell, placing it back in my hand. "You aren't finished yet."

The confusion must have shown on my face as he huffed and rolled over, because he rolled his eyes and grabbed my hand to drag my wand up to where his heart beat beneath his skin. My breath caught.

"I'm not going to kill you."

He sighed and let my fingers drop my wand. My hand fell to his chest and spread over the source of his pulse. He shook his head. "Coward."

"Always have been. Or else, I would have done this before you had a chance to wear the dark lord's mark."

His eyes fluttered open to meet mine, and widened in shock as I moved close enough to sweep my lips softly over his. I pause there, enjoying the feel of our breaths mingling together.

"I suppose that then I'd be wearing your mark instead," he whispered, lips brushing minutely against mine as they moved.

"Or I'd be wearing yours. I don't have an opinion on it."

He snorted back a chuckle and I smirked down at him, leaning in again to rub my nose against his in an eskimo kiss.

His breath comes out in a sincere whisper again, "I wish you _had_ done that before I'd taken the Dark Mark. I wish _I'd_ thought of it then. It was years before I did."

And it sent warm floods through me that he'd thought of it at all before tonight.

"That was the night... I realized that I had nothing."

The warmth quickly iced over and my eyes opened again, to meet his pain filled grey. My arms moved to each side of him, so that I was leaning directly into him, giving him my body's warmth as he shivered on the floor. "Can I make it up to you?"

"Why would you want to?"

"Because I love you, if you hadn't caught on yet."

There was stark silence for a moment. "You're a raving lunatic."

I kissed him deeply, and his tongue met mine in welcome. We broke apart a moment later and he was panting again, forcing out another sentence, "I hear St. Mungo's is nice this time of year."

My kiss cut him off again and he moaned helplessly into it. Tasting him was like heaven after the hell of these past years. I couldn't stop kissing him until I felt his tears against my nose. He was crying. I pulled back onto my haunches, my arms pulling him into an embrace, and he struggled to rid himself of the tears he was crying on my shoulder.

"How could you possibly love me? I've done awful, evil things..."

"I can't help how I feel."

He choked back another sob and I worried I'd made it worse.

"There's no way I could _ever_ make up for the things I've done."

"But you'll try. And that's enough for me."

"How can that be enough?" He'd pulled back and stared at me, a ghost of glares he'd gifted me with in the past.

"Because I love you."

"That's not a good enough reason."

"It'll have to be."

And his fingers curled in the lapels of my jacket and he pulled our faces together again for a hungry kiss. He pulled back from that just as quickly as he'd pulled into it, and pushed away from me, struggling to his feet and helping me up. "You're going to need to contact your friends and let them know it's over and that you've got a prisoner."

"You're not a prisoner."

"I am until I've been to trial. I refuse to be taken lightly, Harry Potter."

He'd said that to me before, I think, but it had meant something different then. I almost laughed. "I'm not going to let them put you away in Azkaban, Draco. I'm not even going to let them put you in St. Mungo's. You're mine."

"We'll let a jury decide that, shall we?"

"How do you feel about me, Draco?"

He stiffened and turned away from me. "If I said I hated you, would you kill me and get it over with?"

"No."

He spun around and hugged me in a very un-Malfoy-like manner. "Then I love you so much it hurts."

And it was a little while longer before I got hold of Ron and Hermione to tell them how things went, and inform them of my new prisoner.

**The End**


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